


Beyond Appearances

by LadyKF



Series: Inspire!Reeve for Traxits [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Gift Fic, Inspire!Reeve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-15 05:32:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12314730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKF/pseuds/LadyKF
Summary: Blindsided by the destruction of Gongaga's reactor, Reeve struggles to manage the psychic backlash without giving his secret away. Tseng has suspicions anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Traxits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traxits/gifts).



> As with the other stories in the series, this continues to explore the original character design where Reeve was an Inspire, capable of giving life to inanimate objects and having psychic bonds with them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reeve woke up feeling sick. Too late, he realizes why.

Reeve didn't get sick very often, maybe a passing cold once a year if that, so the days he did wake up feeling less than well were an unwelcome surprise. He woke to a vague, overall  _sick_  feeling, body aching and feeling slightly clammy when he left the warmth of his sheets to see about a shower.

By the time he'd gotten himself dressed for the day, he could already tell it was going to be a day running on willpower. He really did need to be there, they were still working on getting the auto-checkers hooked up to all of the reactors and  _finally_  completed. It would never be as good as going out to see them himself, he wouldn't replace his yearly checks, but it was an important step forward. He could only be in one place at a time, after all.

There was also a budget meeting before he'd even get into work properly, and he'd had dinner plans with Rufus that he hesitated to cancel. Maybe he'd be able to shake this off… there was plenty of time yet to see. He took a minute to consider packing a lunch before deciding this once that he might just order something in depending on what happened.

The morning meeting was really not as important as it should have been. It was a budget meeting, which was important, but  _nothing happened._  There was no change in funds. The financial reports were blander than Palmer's suit. Really, it could have been an email and saved them all two hours. Not that he'd say as much out loud, but he knew he wasn't the only one thinking it.

It didn't help that he was starting to feel worse. Body aches increased, as well as a shivery, feverish feeling and a general sense of  _wrong_  that he couldn't quite shake. Still, he smiled when he was addressed, managing something close to his normal polite, amicable standard and some mindless small talk before excusing himself back to his office. He was sorely tempted to nudge up the thermostat when he returned, the air conditioning feeling like just a little too much even with his jacket on, but it had been locked for a reason and it was better not to make a big deal out of this. He was probably just coming down with something, it would pass. Maybe some coffee would help warm him up…

A quick investigation of the pot on his own floor registered a particular scent that he knew not to touch; he still wasn't sure what, exactly, went into the 'Diesel Juice' blend that his engineers had taken to brewing whenever there was a big project in the works, but it wasn't something he wanted to drink on a  _good_ day. Exposing himself to those levels of caffeine when he'd ideally like to be able to clock out at a reasonable hour and get some much-needed rest was unwise.

The executive lounge was empty when he arrived, allowing him to get down the Mideel press and start up some coffee without the interruption of having to socialize. He almost considered making tea for a moment as the water heated, but the better caffeine boost from the coffee would hopefully help stop the slight headache he could feel building from progressing. In short order, he had himself a steaming cup of fresh coffee, everything cleaned and put away for later and was ready to head back to his office.

It wasn't a terribly long trip, but everything  _felt_  like it was dragging out. He knew it was an illusion from not feeling well, and nothing to be done for it, but it was still frustrating. Hopefully he'd be able to lose himself in his work for a while and let the day pass by faster.

"Reeve?" Chelle caught his attention as he came in, waving. "Hey, the auto-checker is down. We've got some people working on it, but for now we're going to have to go back to call-ins to check on the reactors."

Reeve blew out a breath, frowning and looking back towards the room where the monitoring equipment was. "Do we know which end the problem's on?"

"We think it's something here, since it's affecting most of them," Chelle said. "So it should be ironed out before the day is over. Or at least properly diagnosed and on its way."

"Alright. Let me know how progress goes after an hour." That would be long enough to see if it was something simple or something that he might need to look into himself. It was, after all, one of his personal designs; most things dealing with the reactors were these days. There was a moment of odd pressure in his chest, almost like a pending cough, and he cleared his throat. "Anything else?"

"Nothing's coming to mind, that was the only thing really off schedule today," Chelle said, watching him a moment. "Are you alright?"

"Mm? Oh, fine." He offered a small, warm smile for her concern. It was clear she was skeptical, but she wouldn't press. "I'll be in my office."

"Alright." She waved him off, going back to her work.

Reeve ducked into his office, pulling his door shut with a quiet click and heading to his desk. For a moment he just looked at his inbox and the stack of folders and papers before sighing quietly. Well… better to start, he supposed. One page at a time. He'd worked feeling worse than this, it had just been long enough that his system was blowing things out of proportion. He couldn't possibly be as tired from this as he felt, he was just dragging.

There was a rhythm to everything in Midgar, even doing paperwork, and he fell into it easily enough for the hour before Chelle called him to let him know that no, they hadn't figured out the problem with the auto-checker yet. Sighing, he finished his coffee and set it aside, going to go take a look at it himself. They had progressed to getting readings from Midgar and Fort Condor, but nothing off-continent or from Junon.

Unfortunately, those three had always been the hardest to keep monitors on due to environmental factors. That, and Nibelheim  _desperately_  needed an overhaul, if he could just get Science to quit fussing about it. Twelve reactors, and they had to cling to the oldest, most distant of them like it was some sort of prize. He never knew what to make of it; nostalgia wasn't Hojo's usual motivation.

Sighing, he caught himself rubbing at his chest and frowned. There was a low ache, the beginnings of a promising case of heartburn, and he resisted making a face at it. Apparently the coffee had  _not_  been a good idea after all. Wonderful.

"You alright, director?" One of the techs asked, catching the gesture.

Reeve dropped his hand with a practiced, easy smile. "Fine, thank you. Let's get a look at what readings we  _are_ getting and see about verifying them first. Then we can see if the issue really is local or if something else is throwing it off."

"Yessir!"

Reeve checked the hardware one more time, then got back up at the console to see what software checks he could run, trying to ignore the burn any time he swallowed, an aching knot in his chest with every breath. He drummed his fingers lightly, trying to focus on the screen. He didn't have the connection to the computers that he did with the reactors, didn't dare, so there was no  _willing_  it to work or feeling it out. Just waiting and dealing with cold code in the meantime, which really didn't care one way or the other how badly he wanted to be done and go rest in his office.

"Reeve?" Chelle poked her head in, knocking lightly on the doorway. "Tseng is here to see you."

"Mm? Oh, just one moment." If there had to be a visitor, at least it was someone he could summon a genuine smile for. "I'll be back as soon as I'm finished. See about Junon next."

"Got it."

He nodded and headed out of the monitor room, greeting Tseng with a faint smile and waving him to his office. "What can I do for you, Tseng?"

Tseng closed the door quietly behind himself, then took a moment to look at Reeve thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should be asking you that."

Too late, Reeve realized he'd been rubbing at his chest again. He offered a chagrined smile, shaking his head. "It's nothing."

Tseng had a particular way of  _looking_  at him, something that demanded honesty, or at least the courtesy of a more plausible lie. "Nothing?"

"A touch of heartburn," Reeve admitted. "Really, it's nothing worth concern."

He didn't look particularly convinced. "You seemed… unwell, during the meeting."

Reeve sighed, a wry smile twisting his lips. No use arguing it, if Tseng was concerned enough to bring it up to begin with. "I may be coming down with something."

"I see." Tseng didn't quite frown, but his brows knit together in concern anyway. "I suppose it would be wasted breath to ask if you've taken anything."

"And hypocritical." Reeve smiled at the chuckle that earned him, more than familiar with Tseng's dislike of most medicines. "Really, Tseng, it's  _fine._  Now, what was it you needed?"

"I had a few things to drop off," he said, handing over the file he'd had tucked under his arm before reaching into his jacket for an additional pair of envelopes, one of which had Rufus' familiar script across the front. "Will you still be meeting with Rufus this evening?"

"That's the plan," Reeve said, giving the folder a quick look before setting it down, envelopes kept in hand. "I'll call if I have to cancel."

"Very well." Tseng nodded. "I'll let him know."

 _Oh I'm sure you will._  He'd likely tell Rufus more detail than Reeve cared to have shared at the moment, but there was nothing to be done for it. Instead, he nodded with a small, warm smile. It  _was_  nice he cared. "Please do."

"I'll see myself out then," Tseng said, smiling because he was well aware Reeve could predict that much, and still fully planned on doing it. Head of the Turks or not, some things never changed. "Feel better."

"Thank you." Reeve watched him go, before letting a hand press to his chest again. Odin's lance, that  _hurt._  Maybe he  _would_  see about taking something and sitting for a bit before he did anything else. A quick examination of his desk turned up nothing, unfortunately, and he wasn't about to go down to medical no matter how painful the heartburn got. Maybe he could get a glass of milk from the executive lounge? Normally if he was up there, it was for coffee and all he needed was creamer and sugar, but he was almost positive he'd seen actual milk in the fridge. It was worth a look.

Getting up, he winced as his head gave a low thump, a reminder of the headache that had been beating at the edge of his senses. It wasn't the worst he'd had even in recent memory, but added to everything else it just made him miserable. He indulged in a moment of just staring blankly, braced a little against his desk, before squaring his shoulders. It wasn't far. He could do this.

"Reeve?" Chelle paused in her typing, looking at him with clear concern. "Hey, are you alright?"

"Heartburn," he explained, smiling faintly. "Just going to see about some milk or something from the lounge. I'll be right back."

"No offense, but you don't look like you should be going anywhere," she said, getting up. "Why don't you let me order something in?"

"I didn't think I looked that bad," Reeve said, arching a brow. Enough to concern Tseng, sure, but not so much that he'd tried to push about him taking off early. Then again, they'd known each other a long time, and he well knew that was a losing battle this early in the month; there was just too much to do with reactor checks and -

The pain increased, and his breath caught in a shallow hitch, hand moving reflexively to press to his chest. Reeve swallowed, and swore for a moment he could taste tangerines, the scent of mako brief and sharp in his nostrils.

" _Reeve?_ "

"I…" He wavered slightly, suddenly unsteady as the pressure in his head increased, grabbing for the doorway just in time to hear alarms going off down the hall. Realization hit like a lead ball in his gut. "The reactor…"

Chelle hesitated, torn between checking on the sudden burst of alarmed sound coming from down the hall and helping him when he could barely keep on his feet. "What?"

"Director!" The answer came down the hall in the form of one of the techs. "We've got a meltdown in -  _sir?_ "

Everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a million questions on the tip of Tseng's tongue, but Reeve's health comes first.

Tseng hadn't gotten to the elevator just yet, distracted by a text from Rufus, and paused when he heard Reeve and Chelle speaking. A faint smile touched his lips and he shook his head, turning back to face the office and wait for Reeve.

He felt the first stirrings of alarm when his administrative assistant commented that he didn't look like he should be going anywhere. Reeve hadn't looked  _well,_  but he hadn't looked  _that_  bad, either. And while he was certain Chelle had had more than her fair share of times chasing Reeve home when he'd pushed too hard, she had to know only so much would be tolerated.

Could his condition have deteriorated so rapidly? He took a half step, uncertain, then tensed as there was suddenly an alarm sounding from one of the side rooms just before a man burst out.

A reactor meltdown.

He hurried back to the office, breaking into a light jog and making it just in time to watch Reeve crumple to the floor. "Reeve!"

"Tseng?" Chelle looked back to him, hurrying around her desk. "Can you —"

"I'll take care of him, you take care of the reactors," Tseng said, stepping around and kneeling to check Reeve's pulse. It was faster than it should have been, but strong. Pursing his lips, Tseng checked to be sure he hadn't knocked his head on anything, then carefully lifted him into his arms. For now, he'd just take him back into his office, laying him out on the couch and kneeling beside him a moment. He brushed his palm across Reeve's forehead, frowning at the clammy feel to his skin, the faint film of cold sweat not yet visible.

Looking at him, he  _looked_  ill, significantly moreso than just moments ago when Tseng had been speaking to him in this same office. He'd gone an ashy shade of pale, lines of discomfort clear around his mouth and between his brows. Even in a dead faint, he was trying to curl in on himself, a grimacing expression of pain slowly drawing his features in. He was half tempted to call a doctor, far too many terrible potential causes flitting through his mind, but in the end Reeve started to stir. He groaned deeply, rubbing his face into the cushion propped under his head, and pressed a hand to his chest.

"Easy," Tseng murmured, carefully running his fingertips back through Reeve's hair. "Just breathe."

"…Tseng?" Undeniably groggy, but apparently together enough to recognize him. Reeve pried heavy eyes open, looking at him through his lashes. "What… what happened?"

"You fainted." No mention of the reactor yet, the last thing he needed was more stress. "How do you feel?"

"Not so good," he breathed, closing his eyes again with a shivery breath.

Tseng huffed a quiet laugh. Typical, but then Reeve would have pointed out he wasn't one to talk. "Take it easy, there's no —"

"Do I hear alarms?" Reeve's eyes snapped open again, memory apparently returning in full clarity as he sat back up, eyes wide and dilated with panic. "Odin's lance, the reactor —"

"You're in no condition to do anything," Tseng said, firm for all the good it would do him. He needed another tactic, and reached out to put a hand on Reeve's arm. "Reeve,  _please._ "

Reeve went still, refocusing on him, lips barely parted in a protest that caught in his throat. "Tseng, I  _can't_ leave it. It's…  _nngh!_ "

This time he cut himself off, curling in on himself with a gasp of pain, eyes squeezed shut tight as he panted, riding it out. Tseng rose, enough to perch on the couch and stroke a hand down his back, feeling him shivering. "You're not well, Reeve. Let your people handle it."

"I  _can't,_ " he managed, voice thick with pain. He tried to sit up, but ended up needing Tseng's help, bracing himself on his knees. "It'll pass. I  _need_  to see to this. We just… the reactor…"

"They have it under control," Tseng insisted. "If you go out there now, all you'll do is distract them. There's no pretending you're alright right now, you look terrible and probably feel even worse."

A breath of a whine escaped, and Reeve covered his face with his hands, still shaking faintly. "Find out what happened."

Tseng hesitated to leave him alone, resting a hand on his back. "You're sure?"

"I have to know," Reeve said quietly. "Please, Tseng, I need… I  _need_  to know what happened in Gongaga."

Tseng was silent a moment. No one had said  _where_  the meltdown was _._  Yet somehow, something in his voice told him that Reeve already knew more than he could find out.

Still, he couldn't say no to that tone. He coaxed Reeve to lean against the back of the couch and headed out to see. The alarms had been shut off by now, but there was a flurry of movement as people responded to the emergency. He paused in the doorway to the monitor room, seeking Reeve's assistant out first. "Reeve's awake."

"Oh thank god," Chelle said, breathing a hard sigh of relief. "He's okay?"

"That remains to be seen," Tseng said. "He's asking for a report."

She hesitated, looking away. "We're still looking into things but… it looks like the Gongagan reactor blew. We're trying to find out what happened."

Tseng's eyes narrowed slightly at the news. "Casualties?"

"No idea, but it was close enough to take out the town. Hopefully we're not dealing with forest fires on top of it." She sighed, looking back to him. "Is he together enough to sign off on sending some crews out, or should I?"

"I'd prefer he rest as long as possible," Tseng said. "He's fairly shaky still."

Chelle nodded. "Right, okay. Well… thank you, for keeping an eye on him. I'll take care of this."

"I'll see about getting him to go home." He'd try, at least. Normally, there would be no chance in light of this disaster, but with how ill Reeve was, he was going to push for it.

Reeve was still on the couch when he came back, cradling his head and breathing in a measured sort of way that suggested trying to fend off hyperventilation. He looked up when Tseng entered, eyes red rimmed but dry. "Tell me."

There was no cushioning the blow. "It appears the reactor in Gongaga exploded."

Reeve hissed a curse, rubbing his face. His breath hitched once, telling distress though he didn't break down further. "I need to be out there."

Tseng noticed he made no effort to move. "You need to rest."

"My teams —"

"Reeve." Tseng crossed over to him, sitting down and letting a hand rest on his shoulder. "You passed out and look about ready to again. Right now, you can't do this. Get some rest, and maybe you'll be able to get back here in a few hours."

Reeve clenched his jaw, staring at the ground.

Tseng tightened his hand briefly, feeling the small tremors still passing through his frame. His voice softened slightly. "You've been through a lot, and the stress about the reactor isn't helping."

"You expect me to think about anything else?" Reeve asked lowly. "After  _this?_ "

"No," Tseng admitted. He knew better. "But your body still needs rest, even if your mind is busy."

Reeve made a quiet sound of protest, rubbing his face, then dropping a hand down to press to his chest. It was clear he was torn, but there was no denying his current condition. "That's not really a suggestion, is it?"

"No," Tseng agreed. "It's not." He'd move him bodily if he had to, dignity be damned. He'd only seen Reeve this ill once before, several years ago when AVALANCHE had destroyed the Corel reactor.

Somehow, he didn't think that was a coincidence. But now wasn't the time for that. "You need to go home."

Reeve sighed heavily, raking a hand back through his hair. "…alright."

"I'll drive you," Tseng said quietly. "Can you walk?"

Reeve nodded slowly, looking even more exhausted now that he'd given in. He got up slowly, swaying on his feet before he shifted his stance to brace himself. "I'll be fine."

"You will be," Tseng agreed. "I'll make sure of it."

That earned a fleeting smile, tired but genuine. "Thank you."

Tseng nodded, going to retrieve Reeve's tablet - he wouldn't deny him  _all_  access to the situation, he understood the need to keep an eye on his things far too well - and came back to Reeve's side. He wasn't sure he trusted him to be able to make the trip entirely, with how pale he was and the way his hands still shook. "Ready?"

Reeve nodded slightly, squaring his shoulders. There was almost a visible shift, tucking away as much of the weakness he was feeling as he could before they came near others. Another habit Tseng understood far too well. Reeve paused briefly to check in with Chelle, asking after the teams she'd sent out before he seemed satisfied enough to leave, with the promise that she'd keep him up-to-date on whatever developed.

It was a silent ride down to the garage level, and when Tseng swiped his card for the executive override, Reeve let himself lean against the cool glass of the elevator with a breathy sigh. His eyes were closed, exhaustion weighing on him, and questions nearly tripped off Tseng's tongue.  _Not yet._  Reeve needed taken care of, first. He was a friend, not a mark to interrogate.

He handed over the car keys without protest as they came to a stop, turning to head for his parking space, where the old car he favored was parked. It ran better than it should, likely due to Reeve's tinkering over the years. It wasn't the sleek, sportier car that Tseng personally favored, but if it meant he'd relax even a little more it was worth it.

"Do you need anything from the store?" Tseng asked quietly, glancing at him as they settled in.

Reeve shook his head slightly, another quiet breath escaping him as he eased himself into the seat. Body aches, too, then. "No, I… I'd like to go home."

Tseng nodded, backing them out and heading the relatively short distance to Sector Eight and the penthouse that Reeve kept. They didn't talk on the drive, but Tseng kept up careful observation. He didn't like what he saw, and was even more sure that home was  _exactly_  where Reeve needed to be, even if it was the last place he  _wanted_  to be.

They made their way up, Reeve's steps slow and telling of the exhaustion dragging at him. He made it unassisted, though his hands shook slightly as he unlocked the door to get them in. "I'm going to go change."

Tseng made a quiet sound of agreement, watching him carefully before turning and heading into the kitchen. He'd been there enough to know what he was looking for, getting the kettle on to heat some water and finding a pair of cups before locating the appropriate teas. Not that he thought Reeve would be particularly picky at the moment, might not even taste it, but if there was a chance to offer comfort he wasn't going to pass it up.

The tea was actually done steeping without any sign of Reeve, so he took the two mugs into the living room and placed them on the coffee table, before heading back to Reeve's bedroom. The door was shut, and he rested a palm on it, debating. He didn't want to push too far, but he wasn't sure he trusted Reeve on his own just yet. Not as shaken as he was. "Reeve?"

The pause was long enough that he almost asked after him again, but Reeve's voice came through, if a bit muffled. "I'll be out shortly."

The heaviness there made him frown, but he kept it out of his voice. "Alright. I'll meet you in the living room."

It was another five minutes before Reeve shuffled out, changed out of his suit and into some old jeans and one of his floral print shirts. He seemed steadier, though he was still alarmingly pale and clearly exhausted. Tseng waited until he settled on the couch, offering him his mug and smiling a little when he made a quiet, amused sound. "You'd treat everything with a good cup of tea."

"Many things," Tseng said, chuckling. "It suits your taste?"

"Mm." Reeve breathed in the fragrant steam, both hands cupping around his drink to absorb some of the heat. "Thank you, Tseng. Really."

"You can thank me by getting some rest before you call back in," Tseng said, not at all surprised by the minute freeze that elicited. Normally, Reeve was better than that, a master of keeping up appearances. It was just one more piece of evidence of how worn down he was. "I understand needing to do your job, but there are points one simply  _can't._ "

"Is that right," Reeve said mildly, giving him a look he knew well; usually from Rufus, however.

"I'm willing to take that coming back to bite me," Tseng said evenly. "So long as you  _rest._ "

"I'll keep that in mind," Reeve said, a promise if he'd ever heard one. "I'm resting now, aren't I?"

"I'd prefer you actually lying down," Tseng admitted. "But I'll take what I can get."

A breathy chuckle escaped Reeve's lips, leaving them to curl in a small, tired smile. "You have to know it's not that easy."

"I'm sure," Tseng said. "But even laying down a bit would help. For Leviathan's sake, Reeve, you  _passed out_. You're running on empty."

Reeve frowned, looking down at his drink without comment. He made a little sound of surprise when a hand rested on his shoulder, fingertips rubbing gently. "Tseng…"

"You don't have to sleep," Tseng promised. "I know you're too wound up for that. Just lay down. Let your assistant handle things for an hour. That's all I'm asking."

"An hour?" Reeve repeated. "That's it?"

"That's it," Tseng said.

Reeve debated it a moment, then nodded slightly. "Alright. An hour."

"Thank you." Admittedly, Tseng hoped he  _would_ fall to sleep and get some better rest, but even just an hour of laying down had to be an improvement, as exhausted as he was. "Do you want anything else before that?"

"No, I'll just finish my tea." Reeve sighed, mustering a small, warm smile. "Shouldn't let a good cup go to waste."

Tseng nodded, squeezing his shoulder before letting his hand drop. But he didn't move away, close enough still for their knees to brush, and he smiled into his cup when Reeve shifted to allow for it.

They finished their tea in silence, and from the heaviness to Reeve's eyes, he guessed that the adrenaline must have petered out. Gently, Tseng took his empty cup, squeezing his hand lightly before slipping it free. "Why don't you go rest?"

Reeve nodded tiredly, squeezing his hand back and getting to his feet. He wavered slightly, but steadied. "Back in an hour."

"Mmhm." Tseng nodded, watching him go. When the bedroom door shut quietly behind him, he took the mugs to the kitchen, and dug out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. Rufus would want to know about this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's more going on than meets the eye, but Reeve keeps his cards close to his chest.
> 
> For now, Tseng allows it.

Reeve went to lay down, admitting if only to himself that he did feel like he needed it. It was impossible to get his mind to settle, however. All he could think about was how he should have known. Should have realized the origin of what he'd been feeling. It had always been harder to sense the reactors out of Midgar, but if it was enough to make him sick, he should have _realized…_

He closed his eyes tightly, blowing out a breath and curling onto his side. The burn was gone from his chest, it was just lingering aches and exhaustion now. The aftermath and phantom pains after the reactor had died. It wasn't as bad as the explosion in Corel, but it was still potent, _lingering._ He needed to get himself together, so he could get back and get to work on damage control.

Chelle was more than competent, he knew that, but it wasn't the same. The reactors were _his,_ in a way that they hadn't even been his father's, and letting someone else handle the fallout felt wrong on a fundamental level.

A deep breath. Two.

He held the second a long moment before letting it out in a hiss. He was just going to have to wait. He couldn't explain to Tseng what had happened, and without that explanation, Tseng reasonably believed he was sick. And if he _had_ been sick enough to pass out, it definitely would have been cause for alarm. Understanding the problem didn't quite help him feel better, didn't make it any easier to wait, but it would have to do.

An hour's rest… an hour's _wait…_ it would feel like forever, but it wasn't terrible. It would take longer than that to get teams on the scene, to have someone there to investigate and give feedback. And as much as he wanted to fly out there himself… that would be asking for trouble. He needed to ride out the worst of the backlash first, adjust to the feeling so when he _did_ get there it wouldn't overwhelm him.

(Would he even feel anything now that it was dead?)

Reeve tightened his grip on his pillow, then let it go, trying to consciously relax the tension gripping him. There was no way he'd actually rest, not like this, and if he was going to wait then he needed to make the time count.

A sudden, familiar warmth washed over him, a soothing resonance, and he opened his eyes to see Cait peeking his head out of the closet. "…what are you doing in there?"

His words were just a breath, not wanting to catch Tseng's attention, but Cait must have taken the invitation to talk as permission to leave his hiding spot, scampering over and climbing up on the bed. He crawled across it, kneeling on the bed next to Reeve. "You're hurt."

_Oh._ Cait was too young to remember the mess in Corel clearly. But this… he raised an arm, beckoning Cait over to tuck against him. "I'm alright. A reactor…" his breath caught on saying it, and he cleared his throat. "The Gongagan reactor exploded. That's what you felt."

"Oh." Cait tucked close to him, giving a little shiver. "I dinnae know. You just felt… wrong."

"Very wrong," Reeve agreed quietly.

Cait was silent a long moment, small chest rising and falling in the same rhythm Reeve's was, warm under his hand. "Will it be okay?"

Reeve smiled tightly, petting along the velvety fur and closing his eyes. How could he even begin to explain the cost of such a tragic event? _Should_ he? In so many ways, Cait was still a child, with a child's innocence, and he wanted to protect that so long as he could. But he couldn't lie to him, he'd know. The little cat was far too clever not to. "…we'll do our best."

"Okay." Cait tucked a little closer against him. "Your friend is here?"

"Tseng, yes." Reeve smiled faintly. "You heard him and hid?"

"Uh huh." Cait nodded. "Should I again?"

Reeve tightened his arm slightly around Cait before the question had even registered properly. Of course, that would be the smart thing to do. Cait… he was still a secret. Still one of the things he'd kept even from his closest friends. _And yet…_

"I can stay until you fall ta sleep," Cait offered quietly, when the silence stretched out without an answer.

Reeve swallowed against a lump of emotion. "I'd like that."

Cait made a rumbling approximation of a purr, something he'd picked up at some point watching tv when Reeve had been out, and nuzzled under his chin. "Just rest."

Reeve sighed, and closed his eyes again, feeling exhaustion threaten to tug him down now that he'd calmed with Cait's presence. This time, he gave into it. He was out in moments.

When he opened his eyes again, Cait was gone. Stretching stiffly, he sat up and ran a hand back through his hair. A glance at his watch said he'd overslept, a total of three hours gone by. But he had to admit he _did_ feel better. Stable. He sighed quietly and eased himself out of bed, heading to the attached bathroom to get a good look at himself.

Still a little pale, but nowhere near so bad as he'd been. The burn in his chest was gone, and took the small lines of pain away from his face. His body still ached, but it had faded to something he could ignore now. Physically, he was moving past it.

If only it was that easy for the rest.

Reeve closed his eyes a moment, hands tightening on the countertop before he made himself let go. Time to get moving.

He headed back to his closet, changing out of his casual clothes back into a suit, his own uniform in Midgar blue. This time, his hands were steady as he did up the buttons. Cold calm had settled over him, as he made his way out to the main room. Tseng was on his phone, but snapped it shut once Reeve entered. For a moment, they watched each other, before Reeve managed a small, warm smile for him. "I'm ready to go back."

Tseng didn't ask if he was sure, he knew better - knew even this much time off in the middle of a disaster had been pushing it - but simply rose to his feet, keys taken from the table. "I'll drive."

Reeve didn't fight him on it, gesturing for them to go.

He had work to do.

 

* * *

 

Tseng watched Reeve subtly on their way back. He moved less fluidly than usual, but he was steady, and the signs of pain were gone. He was tired, but that was no surprise. The change was that he no longer seemed ill. And there was no makeup to do that, no mask, no _acting_. He really, truly was that much more stable despite passing out a mere three hours ago.

It made him wonder things that he'd been able to ignore for the better part of a year. Things like how he'd heard Reeve had been throwing up the better part of the evening the Corel reactor blew. Like the night that they'd been called out to Sector Seven and _something had happened._ Something that never made it into his reports. A miracle, where Reeve stared down a reactor on its way to a meltdown until suddenly things were alright again. He'd never told a soul, but he'd never forgotten. It shouldn't have been possible. And _yet…_

Dangerous thoughts, ones Reeve wouldn't appreciate, he was sure. If there was a secret there, it was kept close to his chest.

In a place like ShinRa, that was probably wise.

But Tseng was a Turk - the leader, now, at least until Veld came back. He dealt in information, in secrets. The instinct to dig was there, powerful - almost irresistible.

Almost.

His mother had raised him to understand that there were forces in the world beyond his knowing. Things that mortal man could not know, let alone explain. Things that were to be left alone, if you were wise.

So long as he could, Tseng would leave it alone. They all had their secrets, didn't they?

He pulled the car to a stop in Reeve's parking spot, pausing with his hand on the door. "See you this evening?"

Reeve's expression was blank for a moment, before he winced. "I don't know. I'll let you know how it looks. I might need to catch a flight out."

"Mm. Let me know if you do; I'll send Reno," Tseng said. The thought of Reeve in the hands of one of Palmer's pilots… no, he'd send Reno. Reno might not be sure what he thought of Reeve some days, but he was trustworthy.

"I'll do that." Reeve stopped at the elevator, stepping in and pushing the button for his floor before looking at Tseng again. "Thank you for this, Tseng."

Tseng hummed quietly, watching the floors rise. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Much." His smile still wasn't quite right, still a touch forced, but with what he was coming back to, Tseng couldn't blame him. As the elevator bobbed to a halt, Reeve looked at him, and his expression softened to something more genuine. "I'll be in touch.

"Be safe," Tseng said quietly, watching him exit onto his floor. The doors quietly shut and he hit the button to take him up to the Vice President's office.

Rufus would want his report in person, and there were some details he couldn't write down.


End file.
